


Nightmare

by fckyeahgallavich



Series: Requests/Prompts [16]
Category: Shameless (US), gallavich - Fandom
Genre: Divorce, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-22
Updated: 2020-05-22
Packaged: 2021-03-03 00:20:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,075
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24315682
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fckyeahgallavich/pseuds/fckyeahgallavich
Summary: After only six months of marriage Mickey wants out and there isn't anything Ian can do about it.Or is there?
Relationships: Ian Gallagher & Mickey Milkovich, Ian Gallagher/Mickey Milkovich
Series: Requests/Prompts [16]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/878244
Comments: 10
Kudos: 148





	Nightmare

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Crimson_Bebop](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crimson_Bebop/gifts).



This was it… They’d failed. Mickey officially wanted nothing else to do with him and Ian didn’t even know where it all went wrong. This all just proved Ian’s fucking insecurities correct, though, and he wrestled with trying to figure out how to save his marriage and the resentment that he’d dug in his heels, knowing something like this would happen, only to concede and then have it happen anyway. 

Even standing in the courtroom waiting for the judge to bang his little gavel and announce their marriage over, Ian couldn’t fathom how they got to this point. Neither of them were unfaithful, neither of them fought with the other, they'd had sex regularly, there wasn’t anyone else in either of their individual lives who pulled them away from the other… 

Ian just couldn’t imagine how he’d managed to lose the love of his life so many times... and further how this time was _for good._ Mickey was done with him… It was all Ian had ever feared and with all of the times that Ian had pushed Mickey away, knowing that this would happen, he had finally allowed himself to trust. And boy did that fuckin backfire.

Tears stung his eyes like needles trying to sew his lids shut so his eyes would just drown in their own burning pools. Every sensation was heightened for some reason. His eyes… his throat, constricted like a viper intent on Ian never saying a goddamned word of the things Mickey needed to hear because he didn’t deserve to win Mickey back and Ian fucking knew it.

Mickey’d moved out a month ago. He’d come home and served Ian with the divorce papers and left without a goddamned word. Ian had tried to get him to speak to him, calling him every day or so, but Mickey had nothing to say; he just kept repeating “I want out” and “sign the papers, Gallagher.”

So, Ian gave up… Like he always gave up.

It wasn’t like Ian was super certain he deserved Mickey anyway, but… damn him for thinking that they were going to finally be together forever, right? Even today in the lobby of the courthouse before going before the judge, Ian tried to ask Mickey what went wrong but Mickey acted like he didn’t hear him. He pleaded with him to just look at him, to just say _anything,_ give any sort of answer, but Mickey just kept a watchful eye on the courtroom door, waiting.

So now here they were in front of a judge about to have their marriage… wiped away. Like it never even fucking happened. Like Ian and Mickey had never fucking happened. And Ian didn’t even know what the fuck had gone wrong. 

So how come when the judge asked Mickey if there was any way that this marriage could be salvaged, Mickey _lied_ to the judge and said “he’s shut me out. I’ve given everything I can to him and it still isn’t enough… I’ve gotta get out to save myself.”

The _fuck?!_

“Hey! What the fuck, Mick? I’ve been trying to talk to you for _weeks_ but _you_ keep ignoring me!” Mickey didn’t even look at him. “The fuck? Mickey! I’m talkin to you!”

“I see,” the judge murmured. He turned to look at Ian then and Ian turned to face the judge, mouth agape at the outright lie. “Mr. Gallagher, do you have anything you’d like to say?”

“He’s lying, your honor!” Ian cried. “I’ve tried talking to him for weeks, even right outside this room today and —”

“Mr. Gallagher? Anything?” The judge asked, tone resembling what is used to talk to a distracted child.

“I… I _said_ I’m trying to talk to him! I don’t even know —”

The judge sighed.

“In that case,” he said over Ian, but not even with a raised voice to indicate he was speaking over Ian, but as though he didn’t hear him at all.

“Wait! You didn’t even —”

“I am granting plaintiff’s request for an annulment of the union between Mikhailo Aleksandr Milkovich Gallagher and Ian Clayton Gallagher on the twenty-sixth of July, two-thousand and twenty. This marriage is annulled.”

Ian’s mouth agape, he had to remind himself to suck in air as all of the breath was kicked out of him. He wasn’t even given the chance to speak… Not to Mickey not to the judge… It was just over.

“Mick —”

He turned to face where Mickey had stood at the other table across from him but Mickey was nowhere to be seen. He whirled around looking for his former husband, trying desperately to figure out _what the fuck just happened._

“Mick!” He shouted, knowing that it wasn’t going to do a lick of good but needing to try.

“Mick!” He cried, his voice cracking so hard he could feel it reverberate inside of his throat. “Why? Just tell me why!”

“Ian?” The most familiar voice, and the voice he most desperately wanted to hear, rang out behind him. Ian whirled around but didn’t see him.

“Mick!” And he started to run. The courthouse fell away and suddenly he was in pitch black, though he could still see his hands when he held them up in front of his face… Like he was glowing.

“Mick?” He whimpered, turning around and around in circles as that voice continued saying his name.

“IAN!”

Ian’s left hand bashed against something hard and he hissed as the pain shot through his arm in a shock. He clutched his fist to his chest as his eyes finally shot open. Mickey was leaning over him, eyes wide as saucers and expression swimming with worry.

“Oh my God,” Ian moaned and pulled Mickey down to hug him fiercely. Mickey’s breath brushed across Ian’s ear; it was at least twice the typical speed, like he was panting as hard as Ian was. Ian breathed Mickey in deep, pulling in his smell and his warmth, fucking _reveling_ in the fact that Mickey was here with him in their bed and he was holding him. 

It had been a nightmare. A despicable figment of his imagination that was sure to haunt him for a long time if only because he’d want to figure out what his subconscious was trying to tell him.

“What happened?” Mickey whispered against the side of Ian’s head before pressing a hard kiss against his dampened hair. He felt Mickey’s nose run against his skin as he shifted to press his forehead against the crown of Ian’s head. Ian sucked in another shaky breath and dragged his fingers across Mickey’s bare back. If Mickey had been wearing a shirt Ian would have gripped the fabric in his fingers to clutch him closer to him. As it was, Ian just wrapped his arms around him and pressed him closer as much as he possibly could.

“Divorce… I dreamed that you divorced me,” Ian finally breathed out, though it was really more of a gasp. Ian didn’t even need to look at Mickey’s face to see the shocked, and likely confused, expression.

“Where the fuck did that come from?” Mickey demanded, tone conveying the shock Ian had predicted. Ian shook his head against its position against Mickey’s chest.

“I have no idea,” he practically whimpered, sucking in another lungful of air through his nose so he could once again breathe in Mickey’s musky scent.

Ian was surprised at himself for how terrified he was in reaction to such a dream. Sure, he loved Mickey; he’d once said “more than anything” and though he’d meant it, he really didn’t recognize how true those words were until this moment as he had to reckon with the extreme reaction to just the thought of Mickey leaving him. Ian sucked in another breath and finally released Mickey, and laid back against his pillow, allowing his tensed ab muscles to relax. Mickey pulled back too but remained balanced on one forearm so they were still slightly touching. Ian ran an aggravated hand over his face and through his hair, trying to clear the image of Mickey turning away from him, shaking his head in disappointment, from his mind.

The idea of Mickey walking away was by far the most excruciating one Ian had ever had... And though this wasn't the first time he'd considered the possibility, this was the first time that he knew such an event would absolutely destroy him.

“You couldn’t hear me… No one could hear me. You served me the divorce papers and no matter how many times I asked what I did wrong or where we went wrong you wouldn’t answer,” Ian finally divulged after a heavy silence. Mickey listened intently, laying a tender hand on Ian’s chest and watching him. Ian shook his head. “Then when the judge couldn’t hear me either and announced our marriage was annulled… I don’t know, i just fuckin lost it,” Ian continued. “After all we’d been through, after how hard you’d fought for me and all we overcame… It just didn’t make any sense, and you wouldn’t even look at me much less tell me what happened.”

“You really think I’d be the one to leave _you_?” Mickey murmured, a small tinge of hurt in his tone. Ian flashed his attention to his partner and had to swallow a lump in his throat before he could speak again.

“You know I’ve always thought you’d get sick of my shit and leave. That’s not anything new,” Ian replied a little defensively. Mickey huffed a sigh and ran the side of his thumb against his forehead, a gesture that said that he was considering his next words very carefully as he worked through what was just said.

“We’re married now. It’s not as easy as me just… packin my shit and leavin.”

“Divorce is a real thing, Mickey. And it fuckin terrifies me and you know that.” Ian shot back impatiently. Mickey’s eyes closed but his brows remained still, as though he was working to keep himself calm, like he was counting to ten.

“What more can I do, Ian?” He finally demanded. Ian flipped onto his front, tucking the pillow under his chest and resting his chin on his folded hands to angle himself so he could still look at Mickey as they spoke. “I get that you’re not doing this on purpose but… all these fuckin insecurities, especially when I’ve not even given you a _reason —”_

“I’ve never given you a reason to _stay,_ ” Ian hissed sadly. Mickey huffed and looked in a random direction, anywhere but at Ian. Anxiety curdled Ian’s stomach as he waited for Mickey’s response. The seconds ticked by so slowly it was like torture waiting for Mickey to answer. After what felt like five minutes, Mickey lowered himself to laying on his front, mirroring Ian’s position. They stared at each other for a long, long time, and even though Ian was dying to know Mickey’s thoughts… Taking this little time-out to just watch each other, absorb each other, be in each other’s presence was relaxing, even soothing.

“You don’t gotta give me a reason, a’right? I love you, ain’t that reason enough?” Mickey finally asked to break the prolonged silence. Ian’s heart glowed in his chest, racing and warming as though Mickey’d never said those three words to him before. After that nightmare of being completely ignored by him, it was a very welcome change.

“It’s not always enough for everyone… I mean…” Ian trailed off, trying to gather his thoughts but completely losing what he was planning to argue. In the end he just sighed and rest his head more comfortably against his pillow and forearm.

“Well, I’m not ‘everyone,’ am I?” Mickey demanded. Ian shook his head though he knew the question was rhetorical. Mickey continued to watch him for a pregnant moment before finally nudging his nose with a finger and biting his lip, clearly concentrating on what to say. “We gotta figure out what it is that freaks you out so bad, man. I can’t do more than I’ve already done to show I’m not going anywhere.”

Ian’s eyes drifted away from his husband’s face down to his name tattooed on the other man’s chest. He couldn’t make it out very clearly in the dark, but he knew that tattoo so well that he didn’t really need light in order to recognize it.

“I think…” Ian started, speaking without actually thinking, just speaking straight from the chest. “I think I’m afraid of turning into a weird kind of hybrid of Monica and Frank… That me and all the fucked-up shit that comes with me and who I am is gonna chase you away or make your life harder… And I don’t wanna be the reason that your life is hard, you know?” Mickey opened his mouth to speak but Ian continued, “And also I think I just don’t know what it is that I bring to the table that will make this marriage work. You’ve always done the heavy lifting with supporting me through all of my shit and… what happens when you need me? Or when we need each other at the same time but I’m not strong enough? I…” Ian took in a deep breath as a realization struck him. “I think what I’m most scared of is that I’m going to learn to rely on you because _that’s who you are_ , but that when I do rely on you that I’m going to do something that chases you away or you’re going to resent me and then where does that leave me when you’re done?”

“There it is again, you convincin yourself that I’m gonna run away. Why? Why are you so sure I’m going to leave you when I’ve _never_ been the one to leave you?” Mickey sounded hurt… Not angry, just hurt.

“I’ve seen it first hand, how hard it is to deal with someone —”

“Unmedicated,” Mickey interrupted. Ian started to argue but Mickey covered his mouth with his hand and looked him directly in the eye. “Stop comparing our situation to your mom’s. She was off her medication more than she was on and didn’t take her diagnosis seriously. That right there sets you apart.” He removed his hand from Ian’s mouth and let it rest tenderly over the center of Ian’s back. Though the shift felt tender, Ian was certain it was more of a convenient resting place rather than a romantic or sentimental gesture. But still, the touch was powerful and seemed to hammer in Mickey’s point. Ian chewed on his tongue as he metaphorically chewed over his words, trying to figure out what to say next.

“I just…” He couldn’t. He truly didn’t know what to say.

“You’re scared,” Mickey finished. Ian nodded. “Ever stop to think that I’m scared too?” Mickey asked. Ian’s brows furrowed as he returned his gaze to Mickey’s. Mickey’s brows were raised as though saying ‘yeah, I gotta spell it out for you?’ “I’ve put all my trust in you, Ian. You need to do the same for me. Pushing me away because you’re afraid, _that’s_ what’s going to separate us. Not your bipolar, not your quirks, not anything else. I’ve committed myself to you in every single fuckin way I can and I didn’t do it lightly. You’ve gotta trust that or else it’s not gonna work but not for the reasons that you’re worried about.”

Ian knew exactly what Mickey was hinting about... And suddenly he felt like shit. Of course Mickey was scared that Ian would change his mind and run out on him... He'd only done it three times. They'd made their peace with each of those times, but it's impossible to forget something like that even if it was forgiven. 

When Ian returned his gaze to Mickey's he was floored by the conviction and love there.

Mickey had never given Ian any reason to doubt his devotion but Ian knew from watching his own parents and Fiona with all of her boyfriends that love is not always enough. Besides stubbornness, what all did they have to bring to this marriage to make it work? Mickey was his best friend; he knew how to make him laugh and forget about his problems like no one else could. He made life worth bearing even on the days where the thought of simply breathing, existing, was unbearable.

"Stop convincing yourself that I'm goin to leave you hanging. Of all the times we were separated it was never my first choice if it was even my choice at all. I've always wanted you and never stopped believing that we would work. But now you need to believe that too or it won't." Ian's heart fell at that thought... of exactly what he feared coming true not even because of his flaws or any sort of mistake, but because he lived in fear of what would happen if he did make a mistake.

"I don't do it on purpose," Ian murmured. Mickey sighed and draped his arm over Ian's waist, pulling him close.

"I know you don't, but... Are you plannin on leaving me?" Ian's brows furrowed at the question and he was certain the look he gave him conveyed how crazy he thought that question was.

"Of course not!"

"Well, I'm not plannin on leaving you either. And any issues that pop up in the future, we'll deal with 'em together. That's what this is fuckin about." Ian nodded but he had to avert his eyes because uncertainty still pulled at him, keeping him from acquiring that same conviction with which Mickey said and believed these things. Mickey sighed and pulled Ian closer, Ian going easily and resting his head against Mickey's chest. "I wouldn't have married you if I thought we wouldn't work. Just trust me, Ian."

It wasn't a lot that Mickey was asking of him and that was what frustrated Ian the most. He knew that his insecurities were ridiculous, even offensive. But they were still there. But suddenly, a thought rang through Ian's head so strong and so loud it was almost as though he'd said it aloud, though he knew he didn't verbalize anything.

_Mickey loves me and I love Mickey... More than anything._

"I trust you," Ian murmured against Mickey's chest as he wrapped his arm around his husband.

Love wasn't always enough to make marriages work... But maybe sometimes it is.


End file.
